Gerard Way sat inside of his house, waiting for the investigation of the murder of Amy Williamson to end. The police were so sure of Gerard being the murderer, they had his house under watch. The police almost never stayed in front of his house for the whole night. Especially on a Saturday night like this one. Gerard should know. This was his, what, 51st time he was a main suspect in a case like this one? He knew that they weren't going to stick around.

And he was right.

They eventually left the front of his house, thinking that he had fallen asleep. Gerard grinned his wicked grin and left his home. He knew exactly where he was going to go. His girlfriend's house. The rat. The snitch. The one who had told the police enough to get him in that mess in the first place.

He was going to make her pay.

**

Gerard knew exactly where she kept her spare key to the house. He unlocked the door and quietly entered the house he was so used to entering. He quietly closed the door and went up to her bedroom. Surely enough, she was there, sleeping, without a care in the world. He grinned and went back downstairs and into the kitchen. He slipped something out of the drawer, and headed back up to her bedroom. Gerard slipped out the object he had learned to use so well: a knife.

Gerard grinned. She was still sleeping. Gerard quietly walked up to her. He lifted up the knife and was about to bring it down to her heart, when he decided against it. He came here for revenge, so he decided to have a bot of fun while doing so.

He grabbed the spare pillow beside her, and he slammed it over her head, holding it down with all of the strength he had, She bolted awake and thrashed around at the realization the she was being smothered. Gerard lifted up the pillow quickly, and slammed back down again. She thrashed around, trying to free herself from the pillow's grasp. Finally, Gerard lifted up the pillow, and put the pillow aside.

"You little bitch" Gerard hissed "You want to be a snitch? This is how far that got you."

Gerard grabbed her by her long, blonde hair. He dragged her to the bathroom, ignoring her desperate pleas. He lifted up the toilet lied, and dunked her head into the water. He lifted her head back up. She barely got a second of air, as he dunked her head back into the water. He lifted her head back up. She barely got a second of sir, as he dunked her head back into the water. Gerard laughed, as he repeatedly did this. He soon got bored.

He dragged her back into the bedroom, where he had left the knife. He grabbed the knife and dragged it across her neck.

"See you in Hell, Julie" he whispered, as he dropped the knife and let go of her hair.

Her body dropped to the floor and she held her neck, as blood gushed out.

He smiled as he sat on the bed, watching the bed, watching the blood gush out of her neck. He grinned as she thrashed around, until she stopped movement altogether.

Gerard remembered how they would smoke cigarettes together on that same bed. Now, he was watching her die. He laughed as he cleaned up the knife, and everything he had touched. No one would suspect a thing.

Gerard Way had struck again.

**

Gerard got into his car and drove home. He turned on the radio. When his and Julie's song came on. He stopped as tears began to fill his eyes. He was crying as he listened. She was dead, on a Saturday night. Their night. He started driving again as he saw the drive-in theater. He drove in, and sat in the backseat of his car, staring at the black screen. The backseat seemed so lonely without Julie. He got back in the driver's seat, and drove off, passing the park, where the were they were running around, having blast just last week. He refused to think of Julie anymore. She was just a number.

Just his 52nd victim.

Gerard drove back to his house, trying to make sure nothing seemed off. The police weren't there. He went into his house, cleaned himself up, and laid down on his bed. He thought of Julie. His 52nd victim. Only that. He laughed at the memory of her body thrashing helplessly on the floor. The memory was fresh in his brain, and he, now, found it hilarious.

There's 52 ways to murder anyone. One or two are the same, but they both work as well.

Gerard knew that better than anyone.

This fic kind of goes out to AshIsNotOnFire, since she LOVES this kind of stuff. This fic is also based of off Saturday Night by The Misfits. Here's a link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XobHupqgNu4 Look at the lyrics, and you'll see the connection!